<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Don’t Be That Dad by MarzgaPerez</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265991">Don’t Be That Dad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez'>MarzgaPerez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged Up Mitch and Auston, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Family Feels, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Past Relationship(s), They’re Dads, Top!Auston, Top!Mitch, bottom!Auston, bottom!mitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I started with the idea: what if Auston Matthews was that annoying dad at his kid’s hockey game? And 18,000+ words later...ta-da!</p><p>Oh, and it’s ALL azuresky18’s fault for getting me hooked on this pair, although I am eternally grateful because they are so effing adorable.</p><p>AU for many reasons, the primary reason being that Mitch gets severely injured right before his rookie debut and never goes back to being a Leaf. He and Auston reconnect several years later.</p><p>Set in the future, but the technology’s about the same because it was easier that way. Enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don’t Be That Dad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mitch leaned down and mumbled to one of the other dads seated in front of him. “Jesus, I wish he would shut up. He does this every time.”</p><p>The guy briefly smirked at his comment but shrugged his shoulders. “Well, he <em> is </em> Auston Matthews.”</p><p><em> Yeah, I know who he is. </em>Mitch was surprised to see the now retired hockey player acting like such a jackass, cursing at the youth hockey refs and yelling at the opposing team. Some people—mostly Bruins fans—had always claimed Auston was an arrogant jerk; his current behavior was pretty solid evidence. </p><p><em> What a great role model for a bunch of ten year olds. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, </em>Mitch noted, as Auston’s son, Charles, body checked another player when the ref was distracted. The kid was the spitting image of his father, tan skin and a head of thick black hair.</p><p>Mitch’s own son, Ben, had mentioned what a dirty player he thought Charles was. Fortunately, there were only a few more games against this team before the end of the season and a possible match-up during the tournament. Mitch hoped he’d be able to keep his cool while Auston continued to throw tantrums. Calling the guy out would only escalate the situation. Besides, the refs, coaches, and other parents seemed willing to give hothead Auston a break. There were always one or two parents who would stick around after the games to ask for his autograph.</p><p>But there would be no autographs given today. Not after scrawny Ben Marner won a puck battle against big-boned Charles Matthews, drove towards the goal, and scored the game winner with only a few seconds remaining. Auston was fit to be tied, pacing back and forth beside the glass surrounding the rink. His own son refused to make eye contact with his irate father, skating quietly to his team's bench as the buzzer sounded, signifying the end of the game.</p><p>Mitch didn’t realize how loudly he’d been cheering until he saw Ben glaring at him, beet red, motioning for him to cut it out. The kid was right, but Mitch couldn’t help it—his own hockey career had ended before it began. Living vicariously through his son, right or wrong, had helped him find his love for the game again. And been a much-needed distraction during a very nasty divorce. At least things had settled down now between Mitch and his ex.</p><p>“Good game, son!” he shouted, looking smugly in Auston’s general direction, wondering if his former teammate recognized him. They’d played in a few pre-season games together—many years ago—so Mitch couldn’t be sure. If Auston had remembered him from back in the day, he had yet to say anything about Mitch’s brief stint as a Maple Leaf.</p><p>Mitch noticed Auston stewing, arms crossed and muttering to himself, as the players from each team shook hands in the post-game ritual. Auston then ushered his son off the ice right away for a lecture. Charles looked absolutely dejected, and Mitch felt for the kid, being the son of one of the Leafs’ most famous players in recent memory.</p><p>But it was time to turn his focus to his own son. Ben skated off the ice after one last round of high fives from his teammates and came right over to his dad for a brief hug and, like always, Mitch tousled his light brown hair. At ten years old, Ben was still a fairly affectionate kid. Mitch knew that would change in a few years, but he loved how his kid’s personality mirrored his own versus his arrogant ex-husband’s. There were flashes of Daniel’s confidence, which was a good thing, but nothing over-the-top. </p><p>“I’m proud of you, Ben. You kept your cool, went for it.”</p><p>“Thanks, Dad. It wasn’t easy with you-know-who out there,” Ben commented while taking off his gear and handing it to Mitch. They had to get Ben over to Daniel’s place by noon for some shindig with his extended family.</p><p>“Yeah, kid could use some manners, but he won’t be the last aggressive opponent you’ll face,” Mitch chuckled. “Go tell your coach ‘thanks,’ and then we better go.”</p><p>As they headed outside of the rink, swerving around the incoming players and parents, Mitch noticed a traffic jam at the exit area of the parking lot. There were two cars blocking the exit, one with the driver’s side door open and next to it, a very familiar grown-ass man waving his hands around and cursing. God, was this a new thing? Auston Matthews having to resort to a tantrum to express himself?</p><p>Mitch rolled his eyes, sighing, as he ushered Ben over to their car. “Get in, bud. Let me go see what the problem is.”</p><p>There were several cars lined up now, waiting to exit and laying into their horns while Auston, not as recognizable now in a baseball cap, was clearly out of his mind, angrily gesturing for the other person to get out of the car. As Mitch got closer to the scene, he noticed that there had been some kind of minor collision; Auston’s front bumper and the other poor bastard’s front bumper had gotten dinged. Mitch also spotted Charles in the back seat of the car, sunk down as low as possible, only his eyes and forehead visible from the window.</p><p>“C’mon, man! You need to move out of the way. Let these other cars through,” Mitch said in a loud but even-keeled voice. He knew talking to this guy as calmly as possible was his only shot of getting through to him. He did have to yell, though, over the sounds of the other cars honking. “Matts! Hey!”</p><p>Mitch wasn’t even sure why he’d used that particular identifier for his former teammate—it had just slipped out. But upon hearing his nickname, Auston seemed to snap to attention. “This asshole came in the wrong way and clipped me. I want fucking restitution for this!” Auston pointed to what was a mere scratch on his front bumper.</p><p>“Okay, but can you blame the guy for staying put? I wouldn’t leave my vehicle if a guy your size was having a meltdown. Calm down! At least for your kid’s sake...” Mitch waved his hand towards Charles, who was now seated upright in his seat and watching the whole exchange. </p><p>“Fine, but I want this douchebag’s, uh...” Auston paused mid-sentence, eyes widening as he stared back at Mitch, recognition of the man in front of him slowly building. Mitch felt a blush across his face, which surely couldn’t be normal, considering he thought Auston was the actual douchebag in this situation. “Mitchy?! Is that you? How the hell are you?”</p><p><em> Oh, fuck</em>. He’d been made. Not that it mattered, not really. “Yeah, it’s me. But can we save the reunion for another time? I gotta get my kid over to his dad’s.”</p><p>“His...dad’s?” asked Auston, confused or surprised, or trying to do the math.</p><p>“Auston! Your car! Move it!” Mitch snapped and then offered softly, “Please.” </p><p>Auston nodded slowly, as if dumbfounded by their encounter and maybe even taken aback by the way Mitch had just talked to him. <em> Probably wasn’t used to anyone standing up to him</em>.</p><p>As Mitch walked back to his car, he was struck with the memory of a much younger Auston, raw talent and amazing drive, telling Mitch they would eventually own the veterans on their team, that the old dogs had no idea what was coming. And Mitch believed him, put his faith in him, was ready to do amazing things with him and the rest of their teammates. </p><p>Sadly, in the game right before their opener, Mitch experienced a career-ending injury that shook the entire league. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, per se, more of a freak incident and possibly the result of some misplaced overzealousness from the rookie. Mitch was going after a puck and slammed into the boards, which he’d probably done hundreds of times before, but the speed and the angle at which he’d crashed left him with a serious concussion and cracked vertebrae.</p><p>At the time, his prognosis for recovering full mobility was unknown. Mitch was absolutely devastated, of course, his rookie year stolen from him after what seemed like a lifetime of blood, sweat, and tears, and his future prospects seemed dire. But if anyone could get back on the ice, Mitch Marner could. And after four years, he did. But not for the Leafs nor for any other major league hockey team—his days as a professional player were over. Instead, he took a gig as an assistant coach for the London Knights and received a hero’s welcome.</p><p>It was the most he was willing to do—probably could do—after so many months of having to retrain his mind to tell his body how to operate like before. Mitch could walk, jog, skate, and do most everything he needed to do to function, but he was constantly plagued with headaches and vertigo. He’d never regain his confidence on the ice, and it would be a long time before he’d be willing to play competitively. And competitively only meant some rec hockey when he was in his late twenties.</p><p>Mitch had accepted a payout from the NHL, including the entirety of his contract and a small settlement to cover his medical bills. The league offered to do a ceremony to honor his achievements off the ice, but he’d declined. Every couple of years, Mitch would hear from ESPN or some sports rag wanting to do a “where are they now” clip or story. The media could tie his life story up in a neat little bow, and so could he, now, if he wanted to. <em>The boy who dreamed of playing for the Leafs, the young man who was just within reach of living his dream. Then, tragedy, a miraculous recovery, and finding happiness with a regular 9 to 5 and a (gasp!) husband. </em>But Mitch Marner had decided a long time ago that his story wasn’t anything he wanted to relive with the rest of the world—just the people who mattered to him.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>With Ben deposited safely (and on time) at his dad’s house, Mitch found himself with an entire evening to himself. He could have taken his brother up on his offer to hang out, but he decided to do some things around the house, eventually having a few beers and ending up on his bedroom floor with his box of old hockey memorabilia in front of him.</p><p>The box was a plastic container, large but not too deep—it fit under his bed and stayed out of sight, except for occasions like this, where Mitch apparently wanted to make himself feel shitty. He opened the box and spotted his Leafs jersey folded neatly in a sealed plastic bag. Ghosting his fingers over the number 16, Mitch sighed, figuring that his number belonged to somebody else now. He hadn’t been following the team as much now that Auston had retired. <em> The guy may be a jerk at youth hockey games, but he was always amazing to watch as a player. </em> </p><p>Aside from the jersey, Mitch had saved a few pucks and various news articles regarding the draft, predictions from the preseason, and of course, those stories regarding his injury. The media attention faded after about six months, once Mitch was apparently taking too long in his recovery. Calls and visits from his teammates and coach fizzled out after less than a year, but some of that was Mitch’s own doing, not wanting to be reminded of a time and place that he didn’t know if he could be a part of anymore.</p><p>He remembered Auston and Matt Martin being the teammates who held out hope the longest—maybe because of pity or the camaraderie they’d developed in those early weeks—probably more of the latter, though Mitch chose to focus on the former. He eventually told them to leave him alone and to put their energy into something else. It pained him to sever those ties, but he’d been teetering on the edge of depression for months, and constant reminders of his old life weren’t helping.</p><p>What did help was time, perseverance, an excellent medical team, and counseling, and through all of the heartache came a silver lining, or at least, so it seemed. Mitch met his eventual husband, Daniel, during all of this. Daniel was in his last year of residency, training with one of the top neurosurgeons in the country when Mitch was injured. They’d struck up a friendship, Daniel being a huge Leafs fan and a constant cheerleader for Mitch when he was going through rehab.</p><p>They even stayed in touch after Mitch moved to Ontario for his coaching gig, visiting occasionally and enjoying a close friendship that sometimes bordered on mild flirtation. Right after Daniel secured a prestigious position at Toronto General, he worked up the nerve to ask Mitch out, and the rest was history. Yes, Daniel was ten years older than Mitch, but he’d been there for Mitch during some extremely dark and difficult times, and Mitch had always admired Daniel’s talent and drive as a surgeon. It was also much easier to be out and openly dating a man, once Mitch no longer had unwritten obligations to a world-famous hockey franchise. </p><p>Mitch ended up returning to Toronto to be with Daniel. He landed a high-paying sales job with an insurance company, married Daniel a year later, and on their two year wedding anniversary, they’d agreed that having a child was a must to round out their family. Daniel’s younger sister volunteered to be their surrogate—with a simple contribution from Mitch—and nine months later, Ben came into their lives. </p><p>Between finding love and raising a child, Mitch had long ago distanced himself from the regret, guilt, and disappointment that came from his injury. But he was only human, and once in a while, especially after a day like today and being recognized by Auston Matthews that afternoon, he couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic and saddened by what could have been.</p><p>Before shoving everything back under his bed, Mitch spotted one of his favorite pictures from his preseason with the Leafs. A reporter had been following him and Auston for a story about their oft buzzed about chemistry on the ice. The article, along with a picture of them interacting during practice, was published a few weeks before Mitch’s injury, and seeing their goofy, smiling faces stirred something in Mitch. There was hope and joy and even innocence in their expressions. But two very different life paths.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>Mitch didn’t see Auston again for another two weeks at one of Ben’s games. Auston surprised him—and the couple of other parents watching the warm-ups—by actually coming over to where most of them sat as spectators. His usual spot was behind the bench where he could offer additional pointers to Charles.</p><p>“Mind if I sit here?” he’d asked. Well, more so assumed it would be alright, because he was seated before Mitch could object. And Mitch wanted to tell him “no,” especially if he was going to curse and yell in his usual manner.</p><p>“Hi, Auston,” Mitch replied, deciding he would lay down at least one ground rule. “Promise to keep it down?”</p><p>Auston made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and an astonished gasp. “What does that mean?”</p><p>Mitch cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. “Well...I’ve seen you do a lot of yelling during these games. It’s distracting.”</p><p>“It’s hockey,” retorted Auston, looking around as though he needed someone to corroborate his side of things. But no one else seemed to be paying attention to their conversation.</p><p>“<em>Youth </em> hockey,” Mitch reminded him, waving towards a kid who had stopped in the middle of the ice to pick his nose.</p><p>“Yeah, well. You were in it long enough to know how rowdy things get in the stands. These kids need to know what it’s like.”</p><p>Mitch could see it wasn’t going to be easy to get through to this guy, nor did he have the energy at the moment. Auston had always been a presence larger than life, but Mitch was pretty much over thick-headed, cocky dudes—he’d been married to one for over a decade.</p><p>“Look, either keep your trap shut, or I’ll move,” Mitch declared through gritted teeth and a forced smile. He figured this was enough to drive Auston away, or worse, get a rise out of him that could get ugly. But it needed to be said. He braced himself.</p><p>Auston was breathing in and out heavily, nostrils flaring, like a bull about to charge at its target, but he said nothing, only clenched his fists in front of him.</p><p>Mitch also remained quiet, expecting the bearded giant to rise up at any minute, and stomp over to his usual spot across the ice. But he didn’t.</p><p>“You know,” he said in a quiet but still gruff voice. “Funny how some things never change. You always were quick to get on your moral high horse.”</p><p>Mitch didn’t know how to respond to that out-of-the-blue yet accurate remark. His teammates used to give him shit for being so squeaky clean. He was surprised Auston would remember that about him, let alone bring it up, but he also sensed this conversation was veering in a direction that Mitch wasn’t interested in exploring.</p><p>“Look, Auston. I’m here to support my kid. Not looking to get in some pissing contest with you. But I needed to say what I said. You can take it or leave it.” </p><p>Mitch hoped that was the end of it, and in fact, Auston must have decided that he’d had enough, getting up a few seconds later and making his way over to his usual spot.</p><p>Mitch noticed that the former Leafs center was much quieter during the course of the game, sullen and brooding—so much so, that his own son seemed shocked not to hear his father berating him when he missed a shot. The kid almost looked disappointed, and Mitch chalked it up to the old adage about any attention being good attention. But then he realized he was judging the situation, judging Auston as a parent, and maybe that wasn’t his place and maybe he could be a bit self-righteous at times.</p><p>Instead of dwelling on it any longer, Mitch turned his focus on Ben and how well he was doing on the ice, his confidence growing by the minute. He’d scored two goals and was cheering on the rest of his team, complimenting their hard work, even though, when the final buzzer sounded, victory belonged to the other team. Mitch avoided making eye contact with Auston, avoided looking in his general direction, because he’d decided it was none of his business how the guy wanted to parent his kid. He made sure to shuffle Ben quickly off the ice since they had lunch plans with Mitch’s parents.</p><p>As he and Ben were nearing the exit to the arena, Mitch brushed off what sounded like someone calling his name until Ben tugged on his jacket sleeve. “Dad? Did you hear that?” They turned around to the sight of Auston waving at them and calling out, “Mitchy, wait up!” Charles wasn’t too far behind but way more interested in what he was watching on his iPhone. </p><p>Mitch was caught off guard by the way his heart was pounding against his chest. Why was he having a physical reaction to the thought of Auston pursuing him, wanting something, needing something? He wiped the sheen of sweat that had gathered on his palms on the sides of his jeans in a subtle motion. “Hey, Aus. What’s up?” he managed in as cool a tone as possible, considering that his heart was racing a mile a minute.</p><p>“Hey! Wanted to introduce you to my son, told him we played together briefly. Charles, this is Mitch.”</p><p>Charles looked up and waved shyly. Mitch didn’t remember much about Auston’s ex-wife, just that he’d read about them divorcing soon after Charles was born.</p><p>“Nice to meet you. Did your dad tell you my entire story? I’m sort of a cautionary tale for what not to do.” Mitch smiled warmly; self-deprecation was his specialty. </p><p>“No, sir. He didn’t.”</p><p>Auston spoke up. “I told Charles what a dedicated player you were, how I figured you were going to be my new best friend on the team, feeding me the puck, racking up assists. I’m trying to teach the kid about all of the different positions, so he doesn’t feel like he has to follow my exact path.”</p><p>“Oh, I see. Well, yeah...who knows what could have happened?” Mitch shrugged nonchalantly. “Let me introduce you to my son. His name is Ben. Ben, this is—”</p><p>“Yeah, I know already, Dad. Nice to meet you, Mr. Matthews,” Ben stuck out his hand, looking starstruck but also generally pleased to have this opportunity. </p><p><em> Well, of course Ben knows who he is. </em> They’d watched Leafs games together, and Daniel generally liked Auston Matthews. Interesting that Ben had never brought it up before.</p><p>Auston was eating that shit up, though. “Hey, I’m just as thrilled to meet you, Ben. You’ve been doing a great job out there. Maybe we’ll have to get you and Charles together sometime, huh?”</p><p>Ben nodded politely, but Mitch could tell he wasn’t entirely enthused about the idea. </p><p>“I’m sure there’s another game or two on the horizon, so we’ll see you soon,” offered Mitch, glancing down at his watch. “Better get moving though, lunch with the parents.”</p><p>“Oh, sure. Don’t want to hold you up. But before you go...” Auston held out his phone. “Put your number in here. I’ll text you about grabbing a drink sometime.”</p><p>“Uh...okay…sure...” Mitch was pretty much weirded out that Auston would want to have anything more to do with him after their awkward conversation from earlier. But he obliged, inputting his number and saving it under the name “Mitchy” just for fun. No one had called him that in a very long time. </p><p>They said their goodbyes, and Mitch made a mental note that Auston’s smirk seemed extra cocky after he’d handed him the phone back. And he’d had some sort of triumphant glimmer in his eyes. Even more odd was what Ben said to him in the car. </p><p>“Was Auston Matthews asking you out, on like a...date?” </p><p>Mitch laughed. “I don’t think so, son. Not sure what he really wanted. But I don’t think that’s what was on his mind.”</p><p>“Are you sure? Seems to me like he was really into you.”</p><p>“Is that wishful thinking, Ben? You want your dad to go out with Auston Matthews?” Mitch watched in the rearview mirror as his son’s face turned red. </p><p>“No! That’s not it!” he protested. “Just want you to be happy. Make a friend or something. Like D.”</p><p>Ah, that was “D” for Daniel, and Mitch was fully aware that his ex had “friends.” Probably too many, but as long as he kept things tame in front of Ben, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.</p><p>“We’ll see, Ben. The guy seems conceited, quick-tempered—not my favorite combination in a friend or otherwise. You’ve seen the way he behaves at the games.”</p><p>“Yeah, Dad. But it’s been hard on him, having to retire before he probably wanted to—no one picking up his contract. That’s what a lot of the commentators were saying, anyway.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you were such a fan, kid.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I didn’t want to make you feel bad, you know, bringing it up all the time. The Leafs, I mean.”</p><p>Mitch waited until they were stopped at a red light, and extended a hand to the back seat, patting Ben’s knee. “Thanks, bud. But I’m okay. Everything happens for a reason, and I like my life the way it is. I’m actually glad you like hockey so much. And if it’s something you’re serious about pursuing, you have my full support.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Then Ben added, “So if he texts you about that drink, you’ll go?”</p><p>“We’ll see, son. We’ll see.”</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>A few days later, Mitch had just dropped Ben off at school when a text came through from Auston, at least, that’s what Mitch assumed from the message—he didn’t recognize the number.</p><p>
  <em> Free for that drink tonight, Marns? </em>
</p><p>He’d been expecting this at some point, figuring that Auston wouldn’t have asked for his number if he wasn’t serious about getting in touch.</p><p>Mitch had even said something to his parents about running into Auston and the possibility of getting together with him to catch up. This was during their recent visit while Ben was playing video games, and Mitch had downed a couple of beers during lunch. His parents immediately cautioned him about opening up that can of worms.</p><p>
  <em> “You’ve moved on,” his father had said. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And then his mother: “Do you really want to be reminded of that time in your life?” </em>
</p><p>That was typical of Bonnie and Paul, always worrying more than was necessary. They’d practically been on suicide watch that first year Mitch was on IR, calling a few times a day to make sure he hadn’t suddenly decided to end it all. At one point, he’d asked them to stop—their anxiety was only making his worse. Mitch figured they were overreacting this time, too.</p><p>
  <em> “It’s been twenty years, guys. I think I can handle a little bit of reminiscing. Besides, Auston has a son who’s the same age as Ben. And he’s divorced, too.” </em>
</p><p>That last piece of information had garnered a few raised eyebrows from his parents.</p><p>
  <em> “Wait a minute. Would this be a date?” asked Bonnie, hand clasped across her chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, Mom! I'm just saying that we have a few things in common, eh? You do know that Auston would need to prefer men if we were going to date.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well, son,” his father chimed in. “There have been rumors about that...” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Jesus, you read the tabloids, Dad?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>”Just when I’m line at the market,” his father claimed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Honey,” his mother added softly. “You used to have a fairly substantial crush on Auston Matthews. Don’t you remember?” </em>
</p><p>It was at that point Mitch began to feel like a 15-year-old kid who’d been caught for the first time with a porno magazine. Damn, his folks didn’t miss a beat, knew him a little too well, though honestly, it took a day or two before he remembered what they were talking about. </p><p>He’d admired Auston quite a bit in those first weeks of training, had probably talked about him when he’d call his parents. Yeah, and he’d thought about him constantly, felt himself drawn to Auston on the ice and off, coming up with any excuse to hang out with him outside of practice. </p><p>By the time he’d turned 18, Mitch knew he was gay, but he had appearances to keep up with, and it was extremely risky business to be out, let alone nursing a sad crush that would never amount to anything. After his injury, Mitch had pushed those feelings for Auston to the far regions of his mind. </p><p>So it stood to reason why Mitch had been feeling nervous around the guy the previous weekend, and why he was willing to overlook some of his recent immature behavior. Mitch replied to Auston’s text a few hours later, explaining that he had Ben for the rest of the week. </p><p>
  <em> I’m free this coming Saturday, depending on whether you have Charles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sure. I can make that work. Let’s meet at Jacobs. I could use a drink and a good steak. I’ll get us a rez for 7pm. </em>
</p><p>Well, Mitch supposed he couldn’t say no at this point, though he had to laugh at this turn of events. “Drinks” had turned into dinner at one of the most obnoxiously expensive restaurants in Toronto, and one where Mitch and Daniel had enjoyed many a meal. </p><p>
  <em> Okay. See you there. </em>
</p><p>It did leave Mitch to wonder what Auston was after—catching up on old times, trying to make a new friend, or wanting to show some pity to a former teammate whose career never got off the ground? Or…</p><p><em> Seems like a date</em>, Ben would tell him the Friday before Daniel came by to pick him up. </p><p>Whatever it was, Mitch had sworn Ben to secrecy, more so for fun than anything else. Now that Ben was getting older, they would occasionally joke about Mitch’s love life, or lack thereof, because after all was said and done, Ben was his first priority, more than anything else. He had enough friends with “hot prospects,” should the time come that he was ready to get back in the game. </p><p>His Saturday was fairly tame. Mitch went to the gym, met a friend for brunch, ran some errands, and then spent more time than he intended, deciding what to wear to this dinner thing. Jacobs required at least a suit jacket and tie, but everything Mitch had in his closet was fairly run-of-the-mill. He could only imagine what Auston might have on, remembering the time they’d been fitted for suits during the preseason, and Auston was all about picking wild, outlandish patterns and colors that Mitch wouldn’t be caught dead in. The guy was all about standing out in a crowd.</p><p>Mitch finally settled on a navy blue blazer, dark gray slacks, and a coordinated tie. He finished off his look by adding a bit of gel to his hair, running his fingers through the thick brown strands that were absent of any gray. He’d noticed that Auston still had a pretty decent mane of black hair and his signature mustache and beard combo. <em> Yeah, the guy still looks amazing</em>, thought Mitch, recalling what Auston was wearing the previous weekend: form-fitting jeans and a slightly worn t-shirt, his thighs Adonis-like and his pecs stretching out the fabric of his shirt in just the right way. He’d managed to keep up his physique following his retirement. <em> Fuck, I need to get laid.</em></p><p>Mitch drove over to the restaurant and decided against valet parking, finding a space on the street near St. Andrews Market. He and Daniel used to bring a much younger Ben and their border collie, Lucky, over to the dog park on Saturday mornings. Daniel had “won” custody of Lucky in the divorce settlement, but it seemed only fair since Ben stayed with Mitch during the week and every other weekend. </p><p>Maybe he and Ben would get a dog sometime. He’d never forget his first pup, sweet Winston, but between work, Ben’s school activities, and hockey, they stayed pretty busy.</p><p>Mitch was a few minutes early, so he took his time walking to the restaurant, and besides, he didn’t want to seem overly eager. His nerves were apparent, his stomach doing flips, almost the way it would before a hockey game. Part of his anxiousness was the very thing his parents had warned him about—dredging up the past, reliving those feelings of euphoria to be playing on the team he’d always dreamed about with an amazing crop of rookies, but all of that short-lived and shattered. </p><p>He was strangely excited, too, whether he wanted to admit it or not. No matter how much of an ass Auston had been during the youth hockey games, he was one of the greats, and he’d asked Mitch to hang out. Whatever the motive, at least Mitch’s curiosity would be sated.</p><p>He stepped inside the restaurant, rubbing his hands together to rid himself of a chill and waited his turn to speak with the maitre’d. The older gentleman nodded towards him. “Good evening, sir. Reservation?”</p><p>“Hello. Yes. Under the name ‘Matthews’, I believe.” Mitch turned to look around the front entrance to see if Auston had arrived behind him.</p><p>“Ah, yes. Table for two. Mr. Matthews has been seated already. Follow me, sir.”</p><p>As they turned the corner, Mitch spotted Auston with one hand wrapped around a tumbler of scotch and the other resting on top of the table, fingers softly tapping the white tablecloth. He rose up when he spotted them, and greeted Mitch with a half wave. Auston looked amazing in his light gray suit, which fitted him like a second skin, maroon tie nicely contrasting with his crisp white dress shirt, and just a hint of a smile.</p><p>Mitch suddenly remembered how hard it used to be to coax a genuine smile out of Auston, but it made him feel like pure gold when he accomplished the nearly impossible task. He would sometimes even manage to elicit a deep belly laugh from the usually stoic athlete.</p><p>Mitch always got compliments on his own pearly whites and his wide, flashy grin that he’d never been able to hide. He’d passed it onto Ben. And it was probably very much on display right now.</p><p>The maitre'd pulled out his chair for him, and Mitch took a seat, placing his cloth napkin on his lap and pretending not to notice when Auston tucked his longish curls behind his ears. <em> He’s so hot, and I’m being a total dork.</em></p><p>“What’ll you have to drink, Marns?”</p><p>“Oh, uh...same as you. Thanks.”</p><p>Auston pointed to his drink. “The same for my friend, please,” and the maitre’d bowed before hurrying away.</p><p>“How’s your day been?” Auston asked him, leaning in. “Your boy have a game?”</p><p>Mitch nodded. “Yeah, the ex took him. Not sure if you’ve ever seen him before. Bit older than me.” <em> Yeah, this was okay, just some idle chit chat to start things off.</em></p><p>“Not unless he’s asked me for an autograph. I don’t mingle all that much. Too focused on my kid. As you were so kind to point out.” <em> And there it was, the potential for awkwardness.</em></p><p>“Yeah, about that…” Mitch paused as a waiter came by the table with his drink.</p><p>“Good evening. My name is Corbin, and I’ll be taking care of you. Would you gentlemen like to hear our dinner specials?”</p><p>Auston gave Mitch the courtesy of responding first. “Uh, no, thank you. I know what I’d like to order. Auston?”</p><p>“I do as well, but let’s start with the oysters and a plate of the mussels.”</p><p>“Very good, sir. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your dinner selections.”</p><p>“That okay, Marns? Guess I should have asked you first. No allergies?”</p><p>“No, Auston. Sounds good.” Mitch opened his menu absent-mindedly—he already knew it fairly well from having meals here with his ex.</p><p>“So...back to our discussion about how I’m too hard on my kid?” </p><p>“Right,” began Mitch, “But I never said that, I only mentioned the yelling.” He closed his menu and looked up. “Do you think you’re too hard on your kid?”</p><p>Auston gave him a “yeah, you caught me” sort of look. “Of course, I am. I’m hard on everyone these days.”</p><p>“My son, Ben, thinks it’s related to your retirement.”</p><p>“Insightful kid.” Auston paused and fumbled with his salad fork. “It’s a lot of things: the slow decline of a once-stellar career, dealing with the ex, trying to connect with a kid you didn’t used to see much of...blah, blah, blah...the usual stuff.”</p><p>“I can imagine,” sighed Mitch. “I can only imagine...” He didn’t mean to sound wistful, but that’s how Auston must have taken it.</p><p>“God, I sound like a total prick after everything...fuck, Mitch, after everything you’ve been through…”</p><p>
  <em> And now it was time for the other shoe to drop—the onslaught of pity.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah, divorce <em> is </em> tough.” </p><p>It took him a second, but then Auston seemed to understand that Mitch didn’t want to talk about his injury—at least, not for the moment. Their waiter returned at just the right time to take their orders, both of them going for salads and leaner cuts of meat, Auston patting his firm abs and mumbling something about not overdoing it since they were both pushing forty.</p><p>Mitch chuckled at his remark and added warmly, “We can talk about my injury some other time, but let’s get to know each other for who we are now.”</p><p>The conversation became more relaxed, Auston sharing a few things about his ex-wife, Rachel, who was now remarried with a newborn and how they were trying to make Charles a priority. The kid was having a hard time with all the change in his life. And Auston was trying to balance starting a consulting business while trying to be more present for his son. He saw hockey as a way for them to connect, saw a lot of potential in Charles, but not the same drive that had made Auston so successful.</p><p>Mitch talked about his divorce, the messy dividing of the assets, which should have been easy since they both came into the relationship with money and successful careers. But the real kicker was, of course, figuring out how to share what they’d acquired together—their home, their dog, and their child. In the end, Mitch gave up his equity in the house (and the dog) to keep Ben with him full-time during the week. Daniel was pushing for every other week, split custody, but Mitch knew that wasn’t the best arrangement for their son. </p><p>Mitch asked Auston if he’d kept in touch with any of the other Leafs players and mentioned how he regretted not doing the same, explaining it was better for him at the time.</p><p>“I completely understand, Mitch. But they’re a good group of guys. I see Freddie and Zach on occasion. We met up in Vancouver at Mo’s place last Thanksgiving.”</p><p>“Yeah? No shit!” chuckled Mitch, and then he asked bravely, cutting into his steak to steady his hands, “And this? Me? You know, asking for my number. I mean, why’d you want to—”</p><p>Mitch didn’t quite know how to finish the question he started. He jammed a piece of steak into his mouth and eventually lifted his eyes towards Auston, who was leaning back against his chair, enjoying a second serving of scotch. He was watching Mitch with a big-ass smile plastered across his face. “Oh, Mitchy. I always had a soft spot for you…”</p><p>Mitch smiled at the comment, but just slightly, not his usual grin, unsure of how to take the comment. They ended their meal with warm brandy and chocolate torte cake—a piece for each of them. It was quite obvious that neither wanted the evening to end, but it was probably too soon in their newly-rekindled friendship (?) to carry things further. They parted ways at the door of the restaurant, promising to text one another and “do it again soon.” </p><p>Mitch was elated that they could fall back into conversation and banter as though very little time had passed, only so much had happened since they’d last spent any time together. He swore there was some kind of spark between them. At least, Mitch hoped it wasn’t one-sided, because the Auston he’d once known as a big ole softie was still there, and Mitch knew he had a way of bringing it out of him. On his drive home, he remembered that it used to give him an odd sense of purpose, making Auston not take everything so seriously.</p><p>But what was to come of this? Only time would tell. And Mitch told himself to relax, just enjoy whatever this was, because it was more than what he’d had a few weeks ago. And so what if his feelings got tangled up in things? Mitch was a big boy now. He had overcome some tremendous odds and found happiness when there was none to be found. So what if, rather than falling right to sleep that night, Mitch spent a good half hour imagining what it would be like to have full, unrestricted access to Auston’s naked body? And so what if Mitch jerked off to the thought of Auston’s hand wrapped around his cock, that Auston was the one caressing his chest and turning his nipples into hardened peaks? He moaned loudly into the darkened room, coming into his hand, and after catching his breath, Mitch cleaned himself up with a tissue and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>The text Mitch received the next morning from Auston led him to believe that he and Auston might be in the same chapter, if not on the same page.</p><p>
  <em> Felt like old times last night, Marns. Let’s grab lunch this week. We still have some catching up to do.</em>
</p><p>The message read as though Auston was putting himself out there, thus making it hard for Mitch to say no. And he wasn’t about to say no, but Mitch would have if he hadn’t been interested in seeing where things would go. Because being married to Daniel had taught him not to compromise what he wanted for someone else<em>. </em></p><p>Ben was home by Sunday evening, and already asking his father about “the date.” Mitch was vague with the details, reminding Ben that it had been a simple dinner between old friends. But when he revealed that they already had plans for a follow-up lunch, Ben howled with delight at this new piece of information.</p><p>The beginning of the week went by quickly, and before he knew it, Mitch found himself sitting across another table from Auston Matthews, enjoying a burger and fries while they picked up where they’d left off—more reminiscing and this time, conversation about their parents and siblings and where everyone had landed.</p><p>“I remember your folks,” remarked Mitch. “Very friendly. Supportive. Like mine. So, you talk to them regularly?”</p><p>“Oh, sure. I fly my mom up here every couple of months. She likes to cook and freeze meals for me. Keeps telling me that I need to find a good woman and settle down again. I keep telling her that’s not in the cards.”</p><p>“Huh.” Mitch paused, deciding he’d go ahead and ask the question, get it out of the way. See if he had a snowball’s chance in hell. “Which part? The woman...or the settling down?” </p><p>Auston didn’t respond right away, just gave Mitch his signature half-smile, but his eyes seemed to be dancing in amusement at Mitch’s boldness. “Look who’s cutting to the chase. Mitchy, I’m shocked. So you’ve heard the rumors?”</p><p>Mitch gulped. “No...not exactly. It was my dad, actually.”</p><p>“Seriously?!” Auston laughed and slammed his hand down on the table. They were in a noisy sports bar, so no one was really paying them any attention. By now, the stares and whispers of recognition when Auston walked in had subsided. “Paul, right?”</p><p>Mitch nodded. “That’s him.”</p><p>“Paul, man! I can’t believe you, reading the gossip rags. Marns, how did this topic even come up with your folks?”</p><p>
  <em> Oh fuck. This was really embarrassing now. Maybe I should stop before it gets any worse. Can it get any worse? Only if Auston outright tells me right now that the chance of us getting together is zero percent. </em>
</p><p>Mitch decided to go for it, turning on the most flirtatious vibe he could muster under the circumstances. “There may have been some discussion, some allegations, if you will...about a torch that I may have carried for a certain teammate…”</p><p>“Go on…” Auston was biting into his lower lip, his index finger poised on his bearded chin. Mitch really liked the beard—he thought it gave Auston the right amount of ruggedness.</p><p>“Well, you know...those allegations were never proven. I mean, what would have been the point? And anyway...shit happened. Lives were changed forever. And, uh…”</p><p>“Here we are…” added Auston, looking around the room, avoiding eye contact with Mitch for just a second, until he wasn’t, and a silence grew between them. Auston was watching him with those devilish eyes, daring Mitch to be the one to speak first. </p><p>“Yeah, I guess so,” agreed Mitch, letting Auston win this one, more so because he had to get back to work, as much as he would have liked to stick around and let this play out all afternoon. “Here we are.” He reached to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, but Auston cleared his throat and shook his head. “My treat today. You get next.” And then, after a brief pause, Auston asked hopefully, “Friday night?”</p><p>Mitch shook his head. “Can’t. I have Ben this weekend.”</p><p>Auston seemed undeterred. “Day date then? With the boys? After their games on Saturday?”</p><p>“Wait, did you just say—”</p><p>“Yeah, I did. We can take the boys to a game. You been lately?”</p><p>“To see the Leafs? No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I’m ready, Auston.”</p><p>“Okay. Fair enough. How about the movies?”</p><p>“I’ll text you,” Mitch replied quickly, dropping a twenty on the table before getting up. All of this was happening before he could think things through.</p><p>“Okay...”</p><p>”It was fun,” managed Mitch, wanting to get out of the restaurant before he did anything else he would regret. Because he did, in fact, regret turning Auston’s offer down.</p><p>It was any number of things that had sent Mitch sprinting away at the pace of the Road Runner, but the main reason probably had something to do with everything feeling a little too real: day dates, and getting their kids together, and having to try to act like he didn’t want to jump Auston’s bones. More than that, he couldn’t start down a path of dating someone he actually had feelings for if the guy was just going to turn out to be a jerk, or uninterested. Or worse, what if he was going through some experimental phase?</p><p>And on top of that, Auston had suggested going to a Leafs game. Mitch couldn’t imagine anything worse at the moment—feeling like Auston’s arm candy and having to face his disappointing past at the same time. </p><p><em> No, thank you</em>. Life had been perfectly fine and boring and predictable just a few weeks ago when Mitch was minding his own business and mumbling to himself about that damn Auston Matthews showing his ass at a youth hockey game. Ah, those were simpler times.</p><p>If Auston was serious about anything happening between him, the ball was in his court. To his credit, he waited a couple of days before texting Mitch. He could have left the whole situation alone, but Mitch figured things weren’t over between them—whatever “things” were. He would have reached out to Auston himself if he hadn’t heard anything by the weekend.</p><p>
  <em> Too much, huh? </em>
</p><p>Mitch’s stupid heart literally went pitter-patter when he saw the text come through that Saturday night. He waited a few minutes. No point in rushing things, since he’s the one who’d put the brakes on them.</p><p>
  <em> Hey, Aus. Maybe a little. </em>
</p><p>He couldn’t spell it out for Auston, that it had been too much but also not enough, that he was afraid it could never be enough. Mitch had spent too many years unraveling and then re-raveling—if there was such a thing—and now he’d been walloped in the gut with all these feelings. He wasn’t ready or willing to come undone.</p><p>
  <em> What did it? The Leafs game? </em>
</p><p>Mitch smiled as he typed. <em> Yeah, I can just imagine the spotlight finding you in the crowd, and me looking like a deer caught in headlights. </em></p><p>
  <em> Sorry, wasn’t supposed to come across that way. Want me to leave you alone forever? </em>
</p><p><em> Depends</em>, Mitch answered.</p><p><em> Depends on what? </em>replied Auston.</p><p><em> On whether or not I’m your type. </em>Mitch held his breath. </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, it’s safe to say that you are. </em>
</p><p><em> Good. Good to know, </em>replied Mitch, hopeful all over again.</p><p>Now that another round of awkwardness was behind them, they made plans to have lunch again, casual, of course. They met up in another sports bar downtown where everyone recognized Auston. It didn’t bother Mitch, he actually thought Auston handled the attention with charm, and he didn’t let it distract him from their time together.</p><p>Right after the check arrived, Mitch brought up doing “something” together on Saturday.</p><p>“Is this the part where I throw some money on the table and get up abruptly?” chirped Auston.</p><p>“Hilarious, man. But you better make up your mind before I change mine.”</p><p>“Okay, you’re on. But you pick the place,” insisted Auston, catching him off-guard as he glided his fingers over Mitch’s, not seeming to care who could have seen them. Probably no one, since it happened so fast. </p><p>They said their goodbyes and parted ways, but dammit if Mitch didn’t spend the rest of his afternoon daydreaming about Auston’s fingers exploring every other surface of his body. </p><p>Now to come up with a plan for their date. He’d be taking Ben to his hockey game on Saturday, but then dropping him at Daniel’s afterwards, which would leave an entire afternoon (and night) for whatever he and Auston ended up doing.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>“Mind if I sit here?” boomed a familiar voice, and this time, Mitch was much more accommodating, sliding over to make room for Auston, hopeful there’d be no need for any scolding. During a recent phone conversation, Auston had revealed that he’d started taking Charles to see a therapist. Mitch wondered if Auston was also getting help as well for the major life changes he was going through. He decided not to ask, only making mention of how much therapy had helped him at different points in his life.</p><p>Auston nudged Mitch’s knee, his quiet playfulness apparent and something that Mitch remembered fondly from the old days. One of his favorite memories was catching Auston in the act of pranking Tyler Bozak and helping him frame their teammate, Matt. It wasn’t a very original prank, the old tape on the skate blades, but it was funny as hell. They’d planted the tape in Matt’s locker. </p><p>The hard part was not laughing too hard during practice when Bozie couldn’t figure out what was going on right away, and he continued to skid across the ice until he collided with another teammate. And the best part was Matt laughing his ass off over the whole thing, which made him suspect number one. Auston and Mitch finished practice with no one suspecting them, and they’d rewarded themselves later with a few cold ones and a movie on Auston’s couch. </p><p>“You listening, Marns?” Auston asked loudly. “I said, ‘Your kid is looking good today,’ passing’s getting better.”</p><p>“Oh. Thanks. Yours too.” Mitch wasn’t just saying that to be nice. He could see potential in most of the kids on the ice. He had been thinking about getting back into coaching—his time with the Knights had helped him realize other leadership qualities he wouldn’t have discovered otherwise. Daniel always told him that coaching was his “rebound gig” and that he should take a break from hockey, try something else. He couldn’t hold it against the guy—Daniel had seen Mitch get down on himself more than a few times about not being able to return to the game—but he could have been more encouraging.</p><p>“So...you picking me up later?” </p><p>The game had started, but Mitch could feel Auston’s eyes on him. </p><p>“You’re old enough to drive yourself. I’ll text you the address. It’s this fancy little place I like to call home. I’m making you dinner. No need to dress up.” Mitch turned just enough to catch Auston’s expression, curious if he’d be disappointed in the relatively bland choice of venues, but he actually seemed pleased. It was kind of a sweet moment until Auston opened his mouth. </p><p>“I’ll bring dessert...if you know what I mean.”</p><p>Mitch groaned, “Yeah, I know what you mean,” and nudged Auston back with his knee. </p><p>
  <em> Oh shit, I guess this thing is happening. </em>
</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>It wasn’t really a surprise where the evening went, shouldn’t have been, anyway. Not after their fairly obvious—and sometimes not terribly imaginative—flirting. Not after enjoying the tasty meal Mitch had prepared from scratch and downing the expensive bottle of wine Auston had brought over, which led to fairly candid conversation about being lonely after a divorce and not always making smart decisions when it came to random post-divorce hookups. And anyway, those hookups were more about proving that maybe you still had it, but really, you were just selling yourself short because of other failures in your life. So why bother trying for anything meaningful? Except, sometimes a worthwhile opportunity might present itself, and if both parties were feeling the same way about it…</p><p>“Fuck. Sorry. I’m rambling...” Mitch realized that what he thought he’d been thinking had actually just come out of his mouth. He wasn’t drunk, but very tipsy and probably giggly. Auston didn’t seem to mind. </p><p>They were seated on Mitch’s sofa just inches apart. A movie they'd lost interest in was still playing in the background. Auston was resting his elbow on the back of the sofa cushion and nursing the last of his wine. </p><p>“No, you’re not rambling. I’m sorta keeping up. I just have my own set of issues, mostly related to being inadequate, but uh...you know, it’s been hard to keep certain things about me...quiet.”</p><p>“Sure,” Mitch nodded, his hand finding its way over to Auston’s, taking the nearly empty glass from him and resting it on the table. “But now. With me. Can you? I mean, are you comfortable?”</p><p>This was it. Mitch was looking back at Auston, frozen, not wanting to make the first move. They could both talk a good game, but when it came right down to it, was this what they both wanted?</p><p>The moment was interrupted by two distinct chimes from each of their cell phones.</p><p>“Charles?” asked Mitch.</p><p>“Probably. We usually do a goodnight thing. I almost forgot. Ben?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll go call him in the kitchen, give you some privacy.”</p><p>“Okay, thanks, man.”</p><p>Mitch turned off the movie and found the quietest corner in the kitchen to ask Ben about the rest of his day and tell him good-night. He could hear Auston’s voice in the background and waited until he was off the phone before returning to the living room.</p><p>“Everything okay with Charles?”</p><p>“Oh yeah. He’s helping out with the baby, figuring out the big brother thing.”</p><p>Mitch nodded and took his seat again, wondering if the moment that was potentially leading up to something had passed.</p><p>“So, uh...back to what we were talking about. When was the last time you...you know?” Auston asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation of Mitch’s response. </p><p>“When was the last time I...<em> had a physical</em>?”</p><p>“No, you know what I mean…since you…”</p><p>Mitch quirked his head to the side. “Is <em> that </em> what we were talking about? I don’t remember that particular topic.”</p><p>“Fine. Forget it. But I’ll go ahead and tell you that it’s been a while for me. Not like, centuries or anything, but long enough.”</p><p><em> Oh, shit. </em> This was his opening. Mitch was going to make the first move after all. He knew it was taking all Auston had in him to open up like this, and any doubts or reservations he had about where things might go between them got tossed aside...not unlike his shirt a few minutes later.</p><p>Mitch closed the distance between them, pausing with his lips just a breath away from Auston’s, hesitating only for a second until he was sure Auston wasn’t going to pull away. And he didn’t.</p><p>Their first kiss was gentle, Mitch taking his time to draw Auston’s lips into his own, sinking into the warmth and without meaning to, letting out a soft moan. He opened his eyes, pulling away slowly, worried that he’d made a fool of himself, but Auston’s expression seemed more disappointed that he’d stopped the kiss. “You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course…” Mitch was blushing now, could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but it didn’t stop him from confessing something. “Is it weird that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time?”</p><p>Auston leaned in, the word “no” on the tip of his tongue as he pressed his mouth against Mitch’s, inching further up on the sofa, his hand cradling Mitch’s neck as he deepened the kiss. Mitch melted into his touch, letting Auston overpower him and wrapping his arms around Auston’s neck to hold on for dear life.</p><p>Auston was practically ravaging his mouth now, in the best way, not holding back as he flicked his tongue in and out, running his free hand down the front of Mitch’s shirt. “Bedroom?” he half-asked, half-told Mitch and didn’t really wait for a response before he was pulling Mitch off the sofa.</p><p>“Fuck, Matts…” Mitch bit into his lip to stop it from trembling. This shouldn’t feel so good, but Auston seemed to be reading his mind, pushing Mitch against the wall of the hallway and sucking the skin at the base of his neck. Mitch moaned at the thought of being marked by Auston Matthews. The hickey was going to be fun to explain—the hickey or the turtleneck he’d have to wear to hide it. </p><p>“Let me take care of you, Marns. Want this. Want you,” Auston whispered between nips against his skin. “Been thinking about this since the parking lot. Remember? When you ordered me to move my car?”</p><p>Mitch’s entire body felt boneless—it had been awhile since someone touched him like this, made him feel like the center of attention. He tried to move his arms, but Auston had his wrists pinned. “You were being a total dick that day.”</p><p>“And you wanted to put me in my place?” Auston dipped his hand down and roughly stroked Mitch’s hard-on, which was shamelessly straining against his jeans. “With this?”</p><p>Mitch nearly choked on the saliva gathering in his mouth. “You’re going to let me...fuck you?”</p><p>Auston laughed and attempted to kiss away the shock on his lips before replying smoothly, “Aren’t you the one with all the experience?”</p><p>“W-what makes you think I’m a top?” Mitch mumbled, pressing the back of his head against the wall, groaning with every touch Auston was applying to his cock.</p><p>“Well...am I right?” </p><p>Mitch wanted to tell his cocky ass that he was mostly wrong, but he didn’t want to miss this opportunity if that’s what Auston wanted for their first time. “Depends,” he managed.</p><p>“Depends on what?” Now Auston was raking his fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, slowly trailing them down his side until making contact with Mitch’s skin. He bucked his hips against Auston’s muscular thigh.</p><p>“Depends on the guy...” Mitch jerked a hand free and pawed at the outline of Auston’s hard-on, barely getting a grip before Auston pulled his wrist back and held it tighter. “Well, Mitchy. Tonight, you make the calls.”</p><p>They both knew that was bullshit, but Mitch just nodded along while Auston helped him out of his shirt, losing his, too and pressing his warm skin against Mitch. </p><p>“Oh fuck, Auston! Your body.”</p><p>“Mmmm...what about it?”</p><p>“Like you don’t know...”</p><p>Yeah, it had been a damn long time since Mitch had been this up close and personal to Auston’s bare chest, but he looked amazing, felt even more so. His tat sleeve was fucking hot, more filled out than Mitch remembered, his skin was tan and smooth, except for the odd scar here or there. <em> Shit, he’s even more sexy now than he was 20 years ago, </em>Mitch decided, using his tongue to explore the dips and curves of Auston’s chest since his hands were still being held against the wall. </p><p>Mitch rubbed his thigh against Auston’s cock, grinding against him as their mouths crashed together. Auston finally released his wrists, lifting Mitch up, planting his hands firmly under his ass, but he’d forgotten one thing.</p><p>“Which door is it, Mitchy?”</p><p>They both laughed as Mitch whispered into Auston’s ear, “last one on the right.” He squeezed his thighs tighter around Auston’s waist as he was carried inside the room, and Auston lowered him onto the bed like a prized possession. The soft light from the lamp in the corner was just bright enough to illuminate their bodies as they each shed what was left of their clothing.</p><p>Auston straddled Mitch, lining up their cocks and grinding down, creating a delicious friction between them. Auston’s cock was about as large as he would have guessed, more than substantial and dripping at the slit. Mitch pushed gently on Auston’s chest until he shifted onto his back, then he lowered himself between Auston’s legs, aching to get his mouth on his cock. </p><p>Mitch sucked him down as far as he could, already wondering what it would feel like to have Auston pounding into him, wanting it more than he could have imagined. This made him work for it even harder, adding a hand to the base of Auston’s cock and pumping his shaft as his lips glided up and down, tongue moving wildly as Auston began fucking into his mouth.</p><p>“Oh, God, Mitchy! How do you—? Fuck! So good!” </p><p>Mitch was lost in the moment, hard from the stimulation of his own cock pressed against the mattress, pleased with how he was turning Auston into a writhing mess of moans and grunts, unsure if they’d even be getting to fucking at this point. God, it felt so good being needed by someone so fucking amazing. Mitch glanced up at Auston for a second, growing harder from the blissed out look on his face.</p><p>Then Auston was tapping on his shoulder and muttering incoherently. Mitch could feel Auston bucking his hips erratically and after a few more thrusts, his release exploding down his throat. Mitch continued jerking the base of Auston’s cock, sucking down every last drop until he heard Auston let out a contented sigh and something that sounded like an apology.</p><p>Mitch trailed his lips over Auston’s hips and abdomen, climbing on top of him and quickly smothering the “I’m sorry” he was muttering.</p><p>“Shhh! Auston, stop apologizing. That was fucking incredible, seeing you like that…” Mitch was now stroking himself roughly. As soon as Auston realized what he was doing, he shoved Mitch’s hand away and worked his amazing fingers up and down his shaft like it was somehow familiar territory, gripping him so perfectly until Mitch was coming undone, moaning into Auston’s shoulder as he coated Auston’s knuckles with his cum. Mitch’s body was trembling against the side of the man he’d once pined for, the man he’d watched over the years dominate the ice and everyone that stood in his path to victory. It was hard to believe, but this man was in <em> his </em> bed now.</p><p>Before sleep began to overcome them—because it went without saying that Auston was spending the night—Mitch grabbed some tissues to clean them up. He turned off the light and settled down next to Auston, pulling the covers over them, letting Auston find a comfortable position.</p><p>“Loved seeing you like that, Aus,” he whispered.</p><p>“Yeah,” Auston rolled over so that his back was pressed against Mitch’s chest. “Glad I orchestrated all of this.” </p><p>“Oh? So you get all the credit?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do.” He reached behind to find Mitch’s hand and pull it on top of his hip, threading their fingers together.</p><p>Auston didn’t let go of it until the next morning.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>Mitch woke up the next morning with a smile on his face and a definite plan in mind. He slowly untangled himself from Auston and headed to the bathroom to take a leak and brush his teeth. Opening his medicine cabinet, Mitch grabbed some lube and a condom. Of course, this was all subject to Auston’s approval.</p><p>He laid back down next to his overnight guest and watched his slow, steady breathing, lips slightly open, and eyelids fluttering. “Hey, Aus?” </p><p>Auston stirred slightly, but nothing more. Mitch twirled his fingers around one of the errant black curls on the back of Auston’s neck, to which the sleeping man swatted at his hand and grunted. </p><p>“Wanted to make sure you don’t have anywhere to be this morning,” Mitch whispered. “It’s after eight.”</p><p>It took him a minute, then Auston mumbled, “Well, don’t you smell all minty fresh?” He rolled over towards Mitch, eyes still closed but lips searching for Mitch’s and finding them. “Mmm...good morning.”</p><p>“Morning,” Mitch replied, breathless from the soft kiss, head dizzy from the change in the atmosphere in his bedroom, given that Auston’s presence was still something out of a dream.</p><p>“Bathroom!” </p><p>Or not. Auston shot up from the bed and looked around the room. Mitch pointed to the adjoining bathroom, biting back a smile at the urgency in Auston’s voice. The larger man made a mad dash for the bathroom while Mitch rested against the headboard, enjoying the view of one gorgeous ass until it disappeared behind the door.</p><p>Mitch heard the toilet flush and a voice call out, “Extra toothbrush?”</p><p>“Just use mine!”</p><p>“Gross!”</p><p>Mitch chuckled as Auston emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his eyes drawn to Auston’s cock, which was at half mast, but he didn’t want to assume anything was going to happen.</p><p>“Do you want some breakfast, Aus?”</p><p>“Is that what you had in mind for breakfast?” Auston stopped at the edge of the bed and pointed to the items Mitch had placed, not as subtly as he’d intended, on the nightstand.</p><p>“Well, uh...thought I’d at least ask.”</p><p>“Huh. Well...why the fuck not?” replied Auston, crawling towards Mitch, all cat-like with his mane of curls, then pouncing on him like the majestic lion tattooed on his upper arm. He grabbed ahold of Mitch’s hips and drug his body down to where he could stroke both of them. Mitch leaned up to meet eager lips, and Auston slid his free hand underneath his neck, blanketing Mitch with his warm body. It was hot and raw and tender all at the same time. </p><p>As Mitch rocked his lower body in tandem with Auston’s strokes—made even better from the slickness of their precum—he began to wonder if they’d make it any further than this. Because, obviously, he wanted more.</p><p>“Aus, feels so fucking good...but I want...I want you inside of me…”</p><p>“You, uh...but I thought…”</p><p>Mitch slid a hand between them, wrapping it around Auston’s cock. “God, I need this inside of me. Want you to fill me up,” he whispered, capturing a moan with his lips as it tumbled from Auston’s mouth.</p><p>“How do you want to...what do you need?” asked Auston, his lustful eyes focused solely on Mitch, who nodded in the direction of the nightstand.</p><p>Auston reached over to scoop up the items. He sat back on his haunches, gazing down at Mitch, like he was strategizing a play. “Okay, Marns. Going to fuck you into this mattress. But first…”</p><p>Auston was clearly not a complete novice at this, a determined look on his face as he positioned Mitch’s legs around him and squeezed some lube onto his fingers. Mitch watched as Auston swooped down to take him all the way to the back of his throat, his lips stretched perfectly around his cock.</p><p>“Oh, God!” Mitch shouted from the sensation of Auston’s tongue moving up and down his cock, coupled with a slicked finger massaging his rim, then sinking in slowly with just the right amount of pressure. Auston had his eyes on Mitch now, checking to make sure all of his efforts were yielding their desired result. Mitch nodded, rubbing his fingers approvingly over Auston’s cheek. “So perfect. Everything...just...more, Aus. Give me more.”</p><p>Auston changed the angle of his finger and added another, searching for Mitch’s prostate. Once he found the sensitive spot, Mitch thrusted his hips upwards and groaned. Auston pulled his mouth off of his cock with a wide, triumphant grin. He propped himself up on his elbow for a better view and added a third finger, clearly enjoying the way Mitch was responding to being opened up.</p><p><em> Okay, Auston fucking Matthews is fucking me with his fingers, and enjoying this at least as much as I am. And clearly I have no shame</em>, decided Mitch as he moved against Auston’s fingers, grabbing his bouncing cock and stroking it with Auston’s spit. He noticed Auston’s other hand was down around his own cock, his eyes closed now, head tilted back, and Mitch decided it was time.</p><p>“Now! Fuck me now!” he practically begged, pawing at Auston’s shoulders and mourning the loss of Auston’s fingers when he pulled them out to open the condom and roll it down his length. Auston poured more lube onto his hand and spread it generously over his cock, running his other hand over Mitch’s chest and then grazing a thumb over his lips. “You’re beautiful like this, Mitchy. So open for me, but so fucking tight. God, never in a million years, when you walked into that locker room—”</p><p>“Shut up, Aus! We can reminisce later. C’mon!” he demanded, desperately needing to be filled by Auston, to be taken by him, ravaged by him. He felt it deep down, that Auston had what he wanted, could give it to him like no one ever had. Auston knew what Mitch was after, though it didn’t stop him from teasing him a bit, pushing just the tip of his cock inside his hole, then pulling out.</p><p>“Auston...now,” he whined, a low groan escaping his lips as he finally got what he wanted: Auston Matthews buried to the hilt inside of him. But he was being too gentle, probably wanting Mitch to adjust to the feeling of his monstrous cock. </p><p>“Don’t hold back, Matthews,” he said through gritted teeth, spurring the man hovering over him to action. Auston pulled all the way out, then slammed back into Mitch, hands pressed into the mattress, holding himself up. He was hovering over Mitch, fucking him hard and moving forward to kiss him, giving him the kind of pounding he wanted. His sweat-soaked chest glided over Mitch’s, his stilted breaths and grunts filling the air, somehow in sync with Mitch’s moans. </p><p>“Oh, fuck. Are you close?” Auston asked, always the gentleman.</p><p>“T-touch me. Please, Aus,” Mitch managed, thrusting his hips to meet Auston’s, angling his body to make room for Auston to stroke him to release, hands digging into Auston’s ass, their bodies moving like clockwork. </p><p>“Fuck!” Auston cried out, spilling his release into the condom, arching his back and continuing to grind into Mitch. He stroked Mitch faster and faster until he was coming, too, between their bodies. And somewhere in the midst of his white-hot orgasm, Mitch opened his eyes long enough to see that smirk of satisfaction and pride on his former teammate’s face.</p><p>And he knew, right then, that they were both so fucking gone.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>Mitch wasn’t entirely convinced this was really happening. Being with Auston had re-ignited something in him that was hard to put a finger on. He felt as though a dark cloud covering his view on life had been lifted. This whole situation was overwhelming, and it wasn’t something he could really share with anyone else. Mitch needed to be able to process it, make sure he wasn’t getting carried away. Or if he was getting carried away, he needed reassurance that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. </p><p>There was one person who might understand, might be able to counsel him, at least hear him out. For the past several years, they’d exchanged Christmas cards and corresponded here and there on Facebook. He’d appreciated Patrick Marleau reaching out to him after his injury, especially since he wasn’t even a Leaf at the time, just a good guy who saw a young hockey player who’d been dealt a rough hand. He’d gotten in touch with Mitch through his agent, left him a message of support and offered his friendship. It was a no-brainer to accept his offer. Patty had always been careful to respect Mitch’s boundaries, trying to be encouraging and supportive, letting him know that his life hadn’t ended. He was part of the reason Mitch turned to coaching.</p><p>And he could trust Patty to be discreet. It wasn’t exactly fair to Auston that he would be sharing the fact that they’d started something. Mitch would have to be vague with the details and not mention any names. But he needed to talk to someone. His parents were out of the question—too nosy. His co-workers were good guys, but they wouldn’t understand, and the man who used to be his best friend, Daniel, was the last person on earth he’d try to get relationship advice from. </p><p>That Monday, after Ben had finished his homework and gone to bed, Mitch texted Patty to see if he had a few minutes to chat. Patty would have known it was important for Mitch to reach out like this, randomly, and it was only fifteen minutes later that Mitch’s phone was ringing. </p><p>“How the hell are you, Marns?” Patty’s voice was raspier than he remembered but still warm and sincere.  </p><p>“Hey, Patty. Congrats on grandchild number three! Saw your Facebook post the other day. Glad everyone’s doing well.”</p><p>“Thanks, kid. Yeah, we’re very blessed. The grandkids keep us young.”</p><p>“You’re not that old, anyway. Saw you a few months ago in that retired players tourney—you’ve still got it.”</p><p>Patty laughed. “Nice of you to say. But what’s up? Something on your mind?”</p><p>“Yeah. You’re one of the only guys I stay in touch with now, and I have sort of a...situation. Well, that’s not really the best word to describe it...” Mitch paused to gather his thoughts. </p><p>“You alright? Everything okay with your son?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, Ben’s great. Chip off the old block. And I’m great, actually. You probably remember that I’m divorced, haven’t really been in a serious relationship since the divorce, but I’ve fallen pretty hard, recently, for a...hockey player. A famous one.”</p><p>“Well, you’re fucked, then,” Patty said jokingly, waiting for him to continue.</p><p>“And it’s not one-sided, best I can tell,” Mitch added.</p><p>“Sounds like a good thing, then.”</p><p>“It is. I don’t want to say too much out of respect for his privacy, but I’ve known him a long time, even had feelings for him years ago. Didn’t think in a million years he’d be into me. Anyway...I can’t talk to many people about this. Just wanted to know if you thought I was being stupid.”</p><p>“How so, kid?”</p><p>“Well, if we keep this thing going, it could get out eventually. He’s still a prominent figure, you could say. And then there’s...well, what happened to me. And I’ve tried to stay out of that life, tried to blend into my new life and not look back.”</p><p>Patty was quiet, processing the information, best Mitch could tell. “I think you already know the answer. I mean, I think you already know what you want to do. Do you just need someone to tell you it’s going to be okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Mitch smiled into the phone. “Sounds about right. I do need to hear that. And I need to let this thing happen. It’s like I can breathe again, when he’s around. Of course, if things get more serious, I’ll want Ben’s approval. You know, make sure he’s okay with it.”</p><p>“If I had to guess, I’d assume you’ve been making Ben your number one priority, and maybe you’re feeling a little bit guilty for thinking about putting your needs on the front burner. Am I right?”</p><p>Mitch honestly hadn’t thought about it like that, but there was Patty, the same old insightful guy he’d always been. “Yeah...you are. Thanks, Patty. This has been so helpful. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you talking to me.”</p><p>“Anytime, kid. We’ll have to get together sometime. It’s been too long. And maybe you can bring your mystery man when you come for a visit. We’re not too far from Toronto, you know. If you need anything else, let me know.”</p><p>“Will do, man. Give my regards to the rest of the crew.”</p><p>“Sure thing, Marns. Take care.”</p><p>Mitch hung up and noticed that a text from Auston had come through while he was on the phone with Patty. His heart nearly skipped a beat as he opened it.</p><p>
  <em> How was your day? Just landed in Chicago for my promotional thing.  </em>
</p><p>Mitch smiled and texted back. <em> Glad you made it there safely. My day was pretty average. Until now... </em></p><p>
  <em> Miss me, huh? Let’s grab lunch on Wednesday. Same spot as last week? I’m craving those nachos. </em>
</p><p>Okay, so Mitch wasn’t completely insane, Auston was into him, too. That, or he needed someone to share his nachos with.</p><p>
  <em> Yeah, Aus. See you there at noon. </em>
</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>A few more lunch dates under their belts, and it was already the weekend that Ben was going over to his dad’s. Same for Charles, who was staying with his mom. Mitch invited Auston over for what was likely to become an ongoing thing—dinner and wine and a movie they paid little attention to, followed by fucking each other until well after midnight.</p><p>On Sunday morning, Mitch planned to get up early and make pancakes for Auston. But Auston surprised him by waking up first and burrowing into the covers, holding onto Mitch and refusing to let him get up.</p><p>“Tell me about your tattoos. I told you about mine last night,” Auston said, batting his eyes playfully. </p><p>It was true. They’d spent an hour after dinner with Auston recounting all of his adventures and misadventures with tattoos. He’d gotten the first initials of his immediate family members tattooed close to his collarbone but made the mistake of adding an “R” for his wife. So after their marriage soured, Auston had it covered with a blue heart and a “C” in the middle of the heart.</p><p>Then Auston had lifted his shirt to show Mitch the tattoo on his side—<em>When hell freezes over, I’ll play hockey there too— </em>and explain how he’d gotten it on a dare. With a nearly shirtless Auston in front of him, one thing had led to another, and Mitch didn’t have a chance to talk about his own tattoos. Until now.</p><p>“It won’t take long, Aus,” Mitch explained. “I only have two. Had this one when we met.” He pointed to the tattoo on his right shoulder, which was essentially his family crest. “Not that you’d remember.”</p><p>“But I do...vaguely. I remember thinking you were pretty badass for having a tattoo. I mean, a nice, clean cut boy like you.” </p><p>“Funny, Matts.”</p><p>“And what about this one?” Auston pointed to the tattoo that covered most of Mitch’s inner arm, starting near his elbow and ending a few inches below his wrist. </p><p>“Yeah...so, I was kind of into mythology as a kid, and the story of Icarus was always a favorite of mine.” Auston shifted onto his elbow to give Mitch his undivided attention, probably sensing that there’d be some meaningful story behind the tattoo. “Do you know it?”</p><p>“Was he the one who flew too close to the sun? And his wings melted?” asked Auston, tracing his finger over the intricate wing portion of Mitch’s tattoo.</p><p>“That’s the one. I always thought about Icarus when I was a teenager, when good things happened to me, career-wise. My motto was always to stay humble and not take risks that could end it all. You know, don’t do anything stupid, listen to my elders.”</p><p>“That sounds like you.”</p><p>“Didn’t do me much good, did it?” Mitch noted with a tone that was sadder than he intended. He didn’t want Auston’s pity, but thankfully, Auston had picked up on that already. </p><p>“What happened wasn’t your fault, Mitch. You know that.” Auston continued tracing the outline of the tattoo, a winged man with well-defined muscles, soaring into the air.</p><p>“Sure, my rational self knows that, but there will always be a part of me that wants to accept the blame, that my ego was somehow out of control, that I deserved what happened…”</p><p>“Mitch…”</p><p>“Anyway, I got the tattoo a few years after my injury, when I was coaching for the Knights. I needed the reminder etched into my skin. I’d made it far enough out of the despair to have hope. I didn’t want to lose everything again.”</p><p>Mitch grew silent, and so did Auston, pulling his hand away from the tattoo but resting it on Mitch’s shoulder. After a minute, Mitch said quietly, “So that’s my tattoo story. Too much?”</p><p>Somewhere in that simple question was a deeper ask. Mitch hadn’t intended on talking with Auston about what had happened to him, but this was probably as good a time as any. Even though they hadn’t put labels on anything, Mitch needed to know that Auston was okay with the heavy stuff. If he wasn’t, better to stop all this now before they went any further.</p><p>“Hey. I’m glad you shared that with me. I’ve always regretted the way I left things after what happened to you.” Auston shifted his position upright and clapped a hand over his forehead. “Shit, never mind. Sorry. Not trying to make this about me…”</p><p>“No, It’s okay. Go ahead.” Mitch inched closer, relieved at his response, feeling like it was important that they be able to talk about the past.</p><p>“I just think I could have stuck around longer, or tried to help you get back on the ice.”</p><p>“You had a life, Aus. And I pushed you away. I didn’t want you guys hanging around and reminding me of what I was never going to have.”</p><p>“But we were your friends, teammates. I wanted to respect your wishes, so I left you alone, but if I’m being honest…”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I was also a coward, not wanting to see you like that. I had the emotional intelligence of a—”</p><p>“Nineteen-year-old kid. You were nineteen. It’s okay.” Mitch kissed his shoulder, and Auston grazed a hand over Mitch’s cheek, lifting his chin to draw his lips closer. The kiss was not one of sympathy and comfort but desire.</p><p>As Mitch opened his eyes, he caught Auston staring at him. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing. Thought about looking you up a few times over the years.”</p><p>“No, you didn’t.”</p><p>“Yes, I did. Thought about your damn smile and your stupid jokes.”</p><p>“Bullshit,” said Mitch</p><p>“Knew you were with the Knights, wanted to catch a game and see you. But I didn’t have the guts.”</p><p>“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to do any of that. Besides, you made up for it recently, asking for my number. Well, demanding it.”</p><p>“Oh yeah. That. I was pretty forward, huh?”</p><p>“Maybe, but I didn’t mind.” Now it was Mitch’s turn to pull Auston closer for a kiss, but he was careful not to press his body into Auston and start something else—he was more hungry for food. “C’mon. Put your clothes on. I’ll make you some breakfast.” </p><p>Mitch found his boxer briefs and tossed Auston’s over to him on the bed. Just as he was getting into his t-shirt and sweats, the doorbell rang, and Mitch had a sinking feeling that he’d missed an important text. Sure enough, he’d forgotten to turn his phone on that morning, and several calls and texts had come through from Daniel. “Shit! Auston! I think that’s Daniel and Ben.”</p><p>“The ex? Should I hide?”</p><p>“Uh, I don't know. I don’t care if he sees you...but Ben. I haven’t told him much about us yet. Stay here. Get dressed. I’ll be right back. Maybe I can sneak you out?”</p><p>As Mitch neared the front door, he could hear Auston moving around in his room.</p><p>
  <em>Shit! Okay, act normal. Daniel doesn’t need to know anything about your personal life.</em>
</p><p>Right before he unlocked the door, Mitch scanned the room for any evidence that Auston had slept over. He spotted his big-ass tennis shoes by the sofa and ran over to shove them underneath it. Seeing no other signs, he opened the door and greeted Ben with a hug and his ex with a simple nod. “Just saw your messages, slept in. Emergency case?”</p><p>“Yes. I’m on call this weekend. I switched with a colleague. I suppose I should have told you.” Daniel was dressed in jeans, a dress shirt, and a sports jacket, his black and preppy-gray hair neatly combed, and he looked as polished as always. </p><p>“It’s fine,” Mitch was trying to play it cool, grateful that his ex was probably in a hurry. </p><p>“See you, kiddo,” Daniel said to Ben, bending down slightly to give their son a hug.</p><p>“Ben, let’s make pancakes, huh?” Mitch ruffled his hair, mind still racing about how to sneak Auston out. He turned to tell Daniel goodbye and close the door.</p><p>“Your visitor spot is occupied. Did you know that?”</p><p>
  <em> Fuck, fuckity, fuck. Of course. Auston had driven over.  </em>
</p><p>“Huh,” shrugged Mitch. It was really hard to put anything past his ex, but he’d have to try. “Someone must be violating the guest parking rules. Sorry about that.”</p><p>“Whoever it is, the person is really into the Leafs,” Daniel commented, apparently not in any hurry to leave. “And an even bigger Auston Matthews fan. Owner has a personalized license plate. AMATTS34.”</p><p>“Wow,” chuckled Mitch nervously as he glanced at Ben, who was wearing what would best be described as his poker face. “Definitely sounds like a crazed fan.”</p><p>“Yeah, probably some nut job.”</p><p>“Probably.”</p><p>“Unless it’s Auston Matthews himself,” Daniel said with a hint of doubt in his tone. “Ben was telling me that Auston’s son plays in his youth hockey association, but I've never seen the guy. Have you? He’d probably recognize you from before.”</p><p>Mitch was struggling to form a complete sentence, and he could have sworn it sounded like Auston knocked something over in his bedroom. Mercifully, Ben yelled out, in a whiny voice Mitch hadn’t heard in a while, “Daaaaad, I’m hungry! C’mon! Pancakes!”</p><p>“Benjamin Latham Marner. Manners,” Mitch said sternly, then turned to Daniel. “Guess I better go. I’ll text you next week.”</p><p>“Yeah...okay…” Daniel may have very well been putting the pieces together, but Mitch didn’t owe him an explanation. He did owe Ben one, though. Mitch closed the door before his ex asked any more questions and joined his son in the kitchen.</p><p>“Welcome back, Ben. I’ll get the ingredients. You start mixing. I think you figured it out already, huh? Pancakes for three?”</p><p>“Yeah, Dad.” Ben was either super intrigued by the pancake instructions on the box or trying to avoid making eye contact with his dad.</p><p>“Thanks for distracting D. I guess you realized I wasn’t ready to talk with him about Auston.”</p><p>“Uh-huh. Did Auston come over for breakfast?”</p><p>“Exactly. <em> Breakfast.</em>” Mitch nodded towards the hallway. “Is that okay with you?”</p><p>Ben seemed like he really wasn’t sure. This was new territory for him since Mitch hadn’t dated anyone that he’d told his son about. </p><p>“I guess it’s fine...since he’s already here.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll tell him the coast is clear. And I’ll tell your dad about Auston...you know, one day.” </p><p>Mitch walked sheepishly down the hall, feeling guilty for harboring his unofficial boyfriend and having to explain things to his son. He opened the door, and Auston was (thankfully) dressed.</p><p>“All good?” he asked, a look of concern on his face. “Should I go? Out the...window?”</p><p>Mitch bit back a smile, wanting to kiss away his worried look, but he stayed by the door. “Daniel had to go into work unexpectedly. Ben knows you’re here. We want you to have breakfast with us.”</p><p>“Oh...um. Are you sure? Because...I can just go if you two want to hang out...” </p><p>“Stay,” Mitch said softly.</p><p>And Auston caved. </p><p>They went into the kitchen, and Auston shook Ben’s hand again, like the first time they’d met, saying he appreciated the chance to try some of Ben’s world-famous pancakes. Mitch wasn’t sure if Ben had caught on to the fact that Auston spent the night, but he seemed unphased. </p><p>Mitch hoped they’d have more opportunities to interact in the future, maybe throw Charles into the mix. But all of that could wait for another day. Now, Mitch had to concentrate on defending his record of highest flipped (and caught) pancake. They let Auston take a few turns, but he clearly needed some practice. </p><p>After they finished laughing over the number of dropped pancakes that would get eaten anyway, the three of them settled at the table. Ben gave Mitch a “you’re not going to like this” look, then turned to Auston.</p><p>“What was my dad like when he was younger?”</p><p>“Oh, uh…” Auston quickly looked at Mitch, possibly seeking approval to talk about that time. Mitch nodded for him to continue. Ben knew the story very well, knew how Mitch’s injury had led him to Daniel. It was a story that Ben used to ask them to tell over and over again, but other than his grandparents and his uncle, Ben didn’t often have a chance to hear about Mitch in his younger days.</p><p>“Well...you know, he was funny. Warm. Everyone on the team loved his optimism. We really wanted him to get better, said a prayer before every game for the rest of that season.”</p><p>“You did?” asked Mitch, putting his fork down. If someone had mentioned this to him before, he couldn’t remember. “Wow...that was really nice of you guys.”</p><p>Ben seemed saddened by the realization that he’d brought up this painful time. Mitch reached over and put a hand on top of his son’s, letting Ben know he was okay with him asking questions about his past. He looked over at Auston who was chewing quietly. “Tell Ben about the pranks we used to play on the other guys.”</p><p>Auston’s face lit up, and he went into detail about a few pranks he and Mitch had served up to the veterans on the team. Ben seemed very much at ease around Auston. Their morning together felt like a good sign of things to come.</p><p>^^^^^^^^^^</p><p>The next two months went by in a blur. Ben and Charles finished their hockey seasons. Neither of their teams made it past the second round of the tournament, which allowed their dads to avoid any competitive tension. It was almost the end of the school year. Mitch and Auston were easing their sons into the idea of the four of them hanging out together more, planning some summer camping trips. Their most recent way to bond was playing younger versions of Auston from his extensive NHL video game collection and kicking his ass with the likes of Alex Ovechkin and Patrik Laine. Auston took it in stride though, even when Mitch teased him privately about how his digital ass seemed to have grown between his rookie year and later years.</p><p>Before they knew what was happening, the media got wind of their new “friendship.” Mitch and Auston had to ask their exes to be discreet, bribing them with Leafs tickets for the upcoming season. They also had to be careful with too many public outings until the attention died down. Auston was used to being scrutinized by the media, so he was very protective of Mitch and making sure he wasn’t getting dragged for being his sidekick. In fact, with Mitch’s permission, he’d released a statement about how rediscovering their friendship had helped him stave off the retirement blues—people could assume what they wanted to from that.</p><p>There was something so natural and easy about their relationship—common interests, loads of mutual respect, and hell, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. It was amazing to Mitch that reconnecting with Auston had tied his past, present, and future together. Their story would make for a nice feature on ESPN one day.</p><p>Mitch was spending just about every other weekend at Auston’s place, where they had more privacy. His home was located in a gated community with a pool and a tennis court. Mitch always chuckled at the custom passcode Auston created for him, #1634. </p><p>It took some coaxing, but Auston was able to get Mitch back on the ice, batting around the puck, nothing serious, but just enough for Mitch to feel connected to one of the greatest passions from his youth. He started looking for coaching jobs in the area and decided to, at the very least, help out more with Ben’s hockey team during the next season.</p><p>Auston even convinced Mitch to accompany him to the arena where the Leafs played, promising that they’d take things as slow, ease him back into things.</p><p>“We can check out the locker room. I still have a friend from the custodial crew who’ll let us in. How about it?”</p><p>Mitch had taken a day or two to think it over but eventually agreed, and that’s how they ended up in the empty Leafs locker room, the royal blue walls as bright and regal as Mitch remembered. There had always been something appealing about the Maple Leafs blue. Ben had insisted on that color paint for his room.</p><p>Auston stood silently beside Mitch, giving him space to take it all in. Mitch had been nervous about coming back to the arena, though he supposed this was the best approach. He’d driven past the place many times, had promised Ben tickets to a Leafs game for his birthday one year, but they’d ended up in Buffalo instead to watch the Leafs play the Sabres.</p><p>It made sense to do this with Auston. Mitch trusted him, had decided he was in love with him, but was not quite ready to share that. Everything was going so well between them, and he didn’t want to rush anything.</p><p>“Almost twenty years, Aus. You stayed here for twenty years. I wonder if I would have stayed that long.”</p><p>“Probably. You loved this team,” Auston said quietly.</p><p>“Still do...” Mitch walked over to his old stall, at least, the general area since everything had been remodeled. Gone were the more shallow dividers in the stalls, replaced with wider panels. </p><p>“That’s strange,” Mitch noted. “Is it supposed to be more private?”</p><p>Auston shrugged. “Yeah, the new guys like it, being able to separate when they want to.” He came over to where Mitch was standing and slid one of the panels into the stall. “Or they can be chatty when they want to,” he added, nudging Mitch’s shoulder.</p><p>“Right. Like me?” Mitch smiled, remembering how Auston would give him this “fuck off” look but then relent if he thought he’d hurt Mitch’s feelings. “Guess you would have kept your panels pulled out if you’d had the option back then.”</p><p>“C’mon, Mitch. You were fun to have around. And I think I would have played even better with you.”</p><p>“Oh, bullshit. Your first game—I remember watching the highlights a couple months afterwards.” Mitch turned to Auston with admiration in his eyes. “I watched almost all of your games. Don’t think I’ve ever seen another player go after it like you did. Every damn time.”</p><p>Auston seemed humbled by his remark. “Eh. I guess. Ran out of steam eventually. It was time for me to go. And Charles needed his dad—even this old, washed-up version.”</p><p>“You’re both doing better now, and he’s so proud of your accomplishments. Three Cups, too many individual awards to even mention right now, and the Calder Trophy your rookie season. I don’t think I ever thanked you for mentioning me in your acceptance speech.”</p><p>“I did, didn’t I?” Auston nearly blushed and looked down at his feet, shuffling them.</p><p>“<em>‘Get well, Mitch. We’re waiting for you.</em>’ It was really fucking thoughtful because I didn’t do shit to deserve it.” </p><p>“Well, that’s a load of crap.” Auston closed the distance between them and grabbed ahold of his hand. Mitch could feel light brown eyes on him, and he met Auston’s gaze. “It meant something to me, Marns, that you might come back. I swear I’m not making this up—always felt like something was missing when you left. I bet we would have won twice as many Cups. I bet we would have challenged each other every fucking day.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Mitch said wistfully.</p><p>“And I bet we would have fallen in love years ago...” </p><p>Mitch’s eyes widened, and Auston seemed just as surprised at his own words. “Well, you know what I mean, uh...”</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” whispered Mitch before leaning into Auston and kissing him softly. He wrapped his arms around Auston’s waist, loving the sturdiness of the man in front of him, loving how he would occasionally slip up and reveal his true feelings.</p><p>Auston looked back at him, eyes dancing, as though there was something wicked on his mind. “Mitchy, did you ever, you know, have any fantasies...about me?”</p><p>“Ha!” Mitch rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of Auston. “All I had was a little crush. It would have been wrong to think about you like I do now, didn’t think you were into dudes back then.”</p><p>“Okay.” Auston planted his lips on the soft patch of skin below Mitch’s ear and mouthed into his skin, “And what about now?”</p><p>“Hmm. Well, at least one thing comes to mind.”</p><p>“Really? Tell me.” Auston cupped a hand around Mitch’s ass and the other over his shoulder, jerking him in as close as possible. Mitch felt a swooping sensation in his stomach—he loved being manhandled by Auston. </p><p>“Okay. But don’t laugh. I want to fuck you in front of your old stall,” Mitch breathed. “Want to make you come right over the spot you used to sit and give me hell for a shitty practice.”</p><p>Auston groaned into his ear, pressing his growing erection against Mitch and grinding their bodies together. “That’s fucking hot. I’m in. Assuming you brought everything we’d need?”</p><p>“Hell yeah, I did.” Mitch trailed his fingers from Auston’s back to his ass and then further down. “These Adonis thighs of yours need some attention.”</p><p>Auston seemed to like the idea of Mitch taking charge, so Mitch told his hulk of a boyfriend—they’d pretty much just established that, right?—to strip down to his boxers. He watched intently as Auston peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. A plan was forming in his mind as Mitch palmed his own hardening cock.</p><p>Auston unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them off, revealing a pair of maroon boxers. Mitch secretly loved that Auston had yet to convert to boxer briefs like most men their age. Regardless, his thighs and his ass filled out the fabric and left little to the imagination.</p><p>“What about you? Want me to take off your—”</p><p>“Want you on your knees,” Mitch informed him. “Get me nice and hard to fuck you.” </p><p>This was probably the opposite of how things would have played out any other time if they’d had sex in the locker room, Mitch reasoned. But Auston was definitely into it, licking his lips, as though he was gearing up to prove how good this was going to be. Mitch inched over to the bench, sinking down as Auston lowered himself onto his knees. Mitch lifted his hips so Auston could tug his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock, which was already wet and throbbing, waiting to have Auston’s mouth around it. </p><p>Auston sucked him down and then pulled all the way off, causing Mitch to protest. “No teasing, Matty.”</p><p>“Matty, is it now?” smirked Auston. “Not teasing. Just want to kiss you. Really need to kiss you. Right now.”</p><p>Mitch leaned towards him, their lips crashing together, and he let out a low moan when he felt Auston’s fingers around his cock. He pulled back from the kiss and watched Auston dip down, dragging his tongue over the head of his cock, licking around the sides. </p><p><em> Fuck</em>, thought Mitch, feeling the warmth of Auston’s mouth engulf his cock. <em> I’m getting blown by the greatest Leafs player in recent history...in the Leafs locker room.</em></p><p>Mitch hadn’t planned on coming so quickly—not until he was nice and buried inside of Auston—but there was something about having Auston half-naked and on his knees, giving this everything he had. Before Mitch could stop himself, he was coming down Auston’s throat.</p><p>“Damn, Aus,” Mitch panted, chest heaving as he leaned against the stall. “You okay? Didn’t give you much of a warning.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Auston nodded, pulling himself up on the bench and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was intense.”</p><p>“Fuck. That mouth of yours. Good for chirping but even better at sucking me off.”</p><p>“Shut it, Marns. Once you’ve fully recovered, it’s my turn,” Auston said, pointing towards the bulge in his boxers.</p><p>“That was my plan all along.”</p><p>“Good. How about you lose the rest of your clothes? Want to see all of you.”</p><p>Mitch agreed, kicking his pants off and taking his place in front of Auston, kneeling as though he was a servant of the court. Auston looked as much like a king as his ferocious lion tattoo. <em> Or maybe more like the emperor without any clothes. </em> </p><p>Mitch got rid of his shirt, and then it was time for Auston’s boxers to go. He worked to maneuver them off, and Mitch rubbed his hands up and down Auston’s thighs before grabbing a hold of his cock to stroke him. He buried his face between Auston’s legs and began nipping at his right inner thigh, alternating between sloppy kisses and tiny bites against the smooth skin. He did the same to his left thigh, praising Auston for keeping his body in such good shape and marveling at the way his thighs were like two marble columns from ancient times.</p><p>“Fuck, Marns. Feels good.” </p><p>Mitch caught a glimpse of Auston looking blissed out and of course, cocky as hell, knowing how much Mitch loved worshipping his body.</p><p>A thought passed through Mitch’s mind that Auston had probably gotten blown in the locker room before, but he’d probably never been eaten out. Thinking about Auston spread out for him on the bench, ass in the air and begging for it was making Mitch hard all over again.   </p><p>“Aus, need you to turn around.”</p><p>“Oh? That was quick. You ready to fuck me?”</p><p>“Mmm-hmm, something like that.”</p><p>Auston obliged, a curious expression on his face as Mitch continued kneeling and waiting for him to get situated on the bench. “So what are you—”</p><p>“Just relax. Want to taste you. Want to wreck the great Auston Matthews with my tongue.”</p><p>Mitch could feel Auston tremble in anticipation as he lavished more attention to the back of his thighs, running his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes along the muscles, digging his fingers into Auston’s ass cheeks and spreading him open. Mitch swiped his tongue over his asshole, adding gentle kisses around the furled skin. Once he could feel Auston relaxing into his touch, Mitch went to town, opening him up further and swirling his tongue inside.</p><p>Mitch smirked to himself as Auston grinded back on his tongue and gripped onto the panels of the stall, his upper body trembling, throaty moans coming out of his mouth. Mitch snaked one hand around to Auston’s cock and the other hand to rest against his torso, allowing him to press his tongue deeper inside of Auston. As Auston writhed against him, uttering random nonsense through gritted teeth, Mitch was regretting not having done this sooner. </p><p>“God, Marns. I need more. Fuck me. Need you inside. Need you to fill me up.”</p><p>“Think you’re ready?” asked Mitch, flattening his tongue and swiping it over Auston’s hole in an excruciatingly slow motion.</p><p>“Yeah...I do. C’mon. <em> Please. Please, Mitchy… </em>”</p><p>A sense of pride swelled up inside of Mitch’s chest. He’d never heard such a needy plea from Auston before.</p><p>“Of course, Aus. I’ve got you.” Mitch reached over to grab the lube and condom from the pocket of his pants. </p><p>“No condom,” said Auston. “We don’t need it. We’re both clean, and there’s nobody else for me. Only you. I mean, if you agree...”</p><p>Mitch nodded enthusiastically, caressing Auston’s cheek and guiding him into a kiss, pushing his tongue inside of Auston’s mouth.</p><p>“Want you to come when I do. Can you wait for me?” Mitch had pulled open the packet of lube and was coating his fingers and his dick.</p><p>“Yeah. I can wait.” Auston bit into his lower lip. “But don’t hold back.”</p><p>Mitch pushed a hand into the small of Auston’s back, coaxing him down, fingering lube inside of him, his asshole still dripping with Mitch’s saliva. “So tight, Aus. So beautiful, letting me fuck you in your stall.”</p><p>“Feels good, Mitchy.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Mitch rubbed the tip of his cock around Auston’s hole. “Feels good to me, too, fucking one of the greatest hockey players to grace the ice.” He slowly pushed inside of Auston, feeling the give as he bottomed out. A shudder overtook Auston. Mitch waited a few seconds, giving him time to adjust before pulling almost all the way out and repeating the gentle rhythm a few times.</p><p>“Fuck me, Marns!” Auston yelled into his stall, knuckles white as he gripped the panels.</p><p>That’s exactly what Mitch had been waiting to hear. He pulled out once more and slammed back into Auston, who barely moved, the force of Mitch’s lithe body barely having an impact, though his cock certainly seemed to be hitting the right spot, based on the sounds Auston was making.</p><p>Mitch was getting lost in the incredible tightness around his dick, snapping his hips in tandem with Auston pushing back to meet his thrusts. They were both a hot sweaty mess, and Mitch couldn’t help but weave his fingers into Auston’s black locks to steady himself.</p><p>“A-are you close, Mitchy?”</p><p>“G-getting there. Touch yourself. I won’t last much longer,” he groaned, running his free hand soothingly over Auston’s asscheek before slapping it lightly.</p><p>“Again. Do it again.”</p><p>Mitch complied, slapping his ass harder this time, fucking into him as Auston worked his hand around his own cock fervently, the muscles in his back tensing up. Mitch began to feel his balls tighten, and he could only imagine how hot they looked right now, Auston totally wrecked and Mitch about to paint the inside of him with his cum.</p><p>It was hard to know who came first, but they were probably within seconds of each other, Auston grunting as he milked himself dry, wrapping his arm around a practically weeping Mitch, leaning back and holding them together until he was sure Mitch had come down from his orgasm.</p><p>“Jesus, Marns. Didn’t know you had it in you to rough me up like that.”</p><p>Mitch stifled a laugh. He’d fucked Auston with as much force as he could muster, but Auston’s body was as sturdy as Mount Everest. Always would be.</p><p>Mitch glanced over Auston’s shoulder at the mess they’d made, feeling sorry for whichever Leaf would be assigned the stall in a few weeks. He was reluctant to pull out of Auston yet, knowing his cum would spill out, but then again, that’s exactly what he wanted—to mark his man.</p><p>“Time to clean up,” Mitch sighed, slowly inching away. He dipped a finger inside of Auston, eliciting a shudder from him as he pushed his cum back between his ass cheeks. At the very least, he’d owned Auston’s ass.</p><p>Auston turned around to wrap Mitch in his arms. “Let’s grab a quick shower. We can dry off with paper towels. Can you grab me some? I’ll clean this up.”</p><p>“Sure, Aus.” Mitch could tell his lover wasn’t ready to let him go. “Thanks for bringing me back here. I know this place has a lot of memories for you, too. I know you miss it,” Mitch squeezed his arm and gave him a soft kiss.</p><p>“I’m just glad fate brought us back together,” Auston replied.</p><p>“Fate? Wasn’t it you being a jackass at a youth hockey game?” chirped Mitch.</p><p>“You’re never going to let that shit go, are you?”</p><p>“Nope. Never.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A thousand “thank-you’s” to azuresky18 for letting me be her hockey pupil. Still have a lot to learn, but it’s been a blast!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>